


Fighting Fires

by fair_veronian



Series: 'Through Nature to Eternity [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Gen, Humor, Innuendo, M/M, Multi, Swearing, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6758149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fair_veronian/pseuds/fair_veronian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A competent universal judiciary translates to time saved, troubles lessened, heartaches avoided and a much better go round for everyone. Much as it pains the Doctor to admit it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flammable Substance

**Author's Note:**

> This is my attempt to resolve a niggling issue I've had for a while (I'm a procrastinator). If the Shadow Proclamation sent the Judoon to collect a single Alien hiding out on Earth, why oh why did they not have anything to say about Reapers getting their hands on a Time Lord AND a TARDIS? This is me, fixing that, I think. I have the first two parts of a series complete, this part is done (around 12 Chapters I think), editing as I go so likely posted in full over the next couple of weeks. I will link them together when I work that bit out! It goes pretty AU from the get go, isn't particularly Rose friendly (I know this puts a lot of people off but really, she was annoying, I'm not gonna pretend I'm sorry, that would be patronising, wouldn't it, yes it would) and probably has a lot of errors due to being unbeta'd. If I've misjudged the rating let me know, I read a lot of Stephen King as a teen so my perspective may be a little skewed. This is nowhere near that though in style, content or competence so don't worry! 
> 
> Written purely as catharsis, no profit made, no infringement intended. I own nothing but some holey socks and a very nice teapot. Should anyone wish to relinquish ownership I don't think I'm up to it honestly, thank you.

“Heaven’s sake child, leave that thing alone and hurry up! The match’ll be finished soon and we need to be back to put the tea on, get a move on.” 

She vaguely acknowledged her mother’s exasperated shout just as the heavy, blue wooden door she’d been pushing gave an inch (the pull sign there to put the less inquisitive minds off she thinks, well you won’t get one past me that easy sunshine!). Her eyes blinked rapidly as her brain tried to assimilate the sneaky peak she’d taken. 

“Come along girl, I’ll leave you to get the bus shall I, see how you like that?” The dazed redhead retreated to her mother’s side. 

“It’s one of them modern art things mum, got lights an’ all-sorts inside, looks like you could fit our whole house in it, must be mirrors n models n that, like that bloke Serra or Stella does. Blimmin’ genius!” The excited teen explained rapid fire to her increasingly impatient mother. 

“I’ll give you genius, now, do you want to drive back? The L plates are on the back seat if you do.’ was the terse if encouraging reply. 

“Nah, thanks mum” the teen slouched a little into the passenger seat of her mother’s neat, green Maestro, “the traffic’ll be shocking after the match, do you mind driving?” 

“Fine” A brief huff accompanied her mother’s reply “but don’t think you’ll be getting out of it that easy, your dad can take you out after tea. Passing your test will be one of the most important things you can do for your future, more employable if you can travel”. 

The girl mouthed along to the last clause of that sentence as her mother pulled out into traffic, heading home.


	2. Banking the Embers

The Doctor ignored the young redhead walking away from his TARDIS, distracted by his worry over the potential fallout from today’s utter failure of an outing. He was a little disturbed to find the ‘Old Girl’s’ door ajar but it was subdued by the sinking feeling he knew what to expect as they entered. Rose barely noticed they were inside, too overwhelmed by her experience to pay more than the barest attention. 

“Architect” the Doctor guardedly greeted their impromptu visitor, “to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

He was pretty sure he knew but playing dumb with arrogant meddlers as they were gave him the slightest twinge of satisfaction, rare as that was these days. Rose’s hand tightened around his as the appearance of a tall, pale woman dressed for a part in Harry Potter flanked on either side by a pair of enormous upright Rhino’s (and after time devouring dragons, really not that much of a stretch was it?) finally roused her from her introspective mood. 

She found her voice “who are you? what are they? how’d she get in? Doctor?” after a surprisingly confident start she was frustrated that her fear started to show in her voice as she turned towards the Doctor and saw the determinedly placid face he had adopted in view of their ‘guests’. She unconsciously shuffled closer to the Doctor, holding onto his arm partially shielding herself from the uncomfortable scrutiny she felt from the unexplained woman. The Doctor stood impassive, his usually stoic features schooled in neutrality a hint of anger, and perhaps guilt fleetingly visible in his piercing eyes. 

“Time Lord,” the architect’s voice dripped with icy disdain, her clipped pronunciation perhaps the only clue she was using anything other than her native tongue. The TARDIS was stubbornly refusing to translate for this intruder, despite knowing the essential nature of the proceedings, probably with more clarity than the limited beings she allowed entry to, she disliked doing anything to pain her troubled thief. 

“You should understand the necessity of our intervention, your ship most certainly did to allow our presence”. At this mention of her complicity the TARDIS sent a simultaneous reassuring hum to her pilot and one of warning to the architect. The Doctor noted with bitter satisfaction that the otherwise imposing woman visibly shrank at the sound. He knew however that she would not be deterred from her purpose. At her nod of approval, the two rhinomen moved to flank the Doctor and Rose and the Doctor sensed Rose’s confusion at his lack of action. 

“I am at fault here Architect” he stated, trying, but failing to hide Rose from the two Judoon enforcers, “a human child”, he tried to ignore Rose’s huff of indignation, he struggled more to ignore the elbow to his ribs but quelled her protest with a particularly dark look and a possibly too tight squeeze of her hand in his, “cannot be held responsible for actions she didn’t understand, I allowed this to happen, I will face the appropriate consequences”. 

Rose had now turned fully out of his grip and with all the righteous indignation her teenage years could afford her she squared her shoulders and faced him “Doctor, what do you mean, Child? I know it was my fault the Reapers came, but Dad put it right didn’ he? It never happened right? Doctor?” 

“The ‘child’ speaks clearly Doctor, her actions here forced your hand, she provided the Reapers their opprtunity to posses the immeasurable power of your ship and the sum of your experiences. Such powerful beings could have destroyed universes beyond reckoning with strength like that at their disposal”. 

The TARDIS and the Doctor were both suddenly assaulted by the possible timelines flickering in and out of their shared conciousness. Her ability to filter and dampen their presence was likely the only thing that allowed the Doctor to remain concious during the flare of temporal energy. She pushes glimpses of one potentially devastating eventuality to the fore, one which she was particularly keen to keep him from but he was worryingly close to. He catches glimpses of Dalek armies, murderous beings with glowing orbs in their hands and a deadly red gaze, humans being herded to their untimely ends by Cybermen troops, Rose glowing as if regenerating, his own regeneration, an elegant blonde in period dress calling for his quick return, Rose disappearing in the hold of the man she’d only hours ago tried to save from his own death, a beautiful, smiling medic morphing into an haunted, malnourished soldier, an angry bride accusing him of kidnapping. At this image he feels the TARDIS pulling him back to awareness, and the last image he sees is a burning flash as a universe collapses, ending one possible existence and leaving the bride he’d seen lying dead in a unknown high street wearing a confusing coat of TARDIS components and military technology. 

He snaps back to his current surroundings with a renewed sense of clarity and a distinctly uncomfortable feeling of chastisement. As he looks to Rose for, well not comfort but perhaps recognition of his discomfort, he feels the hum of the TARDIS change almost as if in exasperation and he takes a moment to reflect more objectively on his time with her. This train of thought is accompanied by an almost approving mental nudge from the TARDIS and he schools his features into neutrality once more as he examines his recent behaviour. He’s a little disappointed to note his own ability to avoid the truth as he realises he has encouraged Rose’s lust for adventure without providing any of the guidance and boundaries to protect her, and others, from the associated risks. Seeing the universe (or what’s left of it for him) through such young, innocent eyes was intoxicating and he also acknowledges, a little defensively to his ship, his need for respite from the weight of responsibility in his post war existence. He’d meant it when he offered to take the blame for Rose’s mistake earlier but now he know’s he could have tried much harder than he did to enlighten her to the potentially universe ending consequences of her actions. With another nudge from his ship he also recognises that her occasionally flippant and volatile responses to the things he’s shown her only serve to highlight her truly young age, actual number comparisons are redundant but in relative terms she’s so much younger than him that he struggles with the implications uncomfortably before giving up his state of denial and accepting that refreshing as it was to have such a naive and impressionable companion, he should have seen something like this coming and prepared her for it instead of dangling dangerous possibilities within touching distance. He turns to face his young 'ward' as he now see her and hopes she will at least hear him out before the inevitable emotional outburst.


	3. Sweeping the Hearth

“No Rose” his voice is tired and laced with regret “it happened and now, now we face the consequences. I told you my people would’ve been able to prevent what happened today, without them other forces have to protect existence as best they can. This is the Shadow Architect, voice of the Proclamation. Universal Judiciary you could say” his voice regains a little of it’s usual lyrical cadence as he explains their circumstances at last, “She’s right, what happened today could’ve caused universal collapse and I should have known better than to tempt a child with a parents life”. 

Rose had grown more and more frustrated watching the Doctor interact with the creepy woman and then stare into space as if listening to a conversation in a distant room, his ‘deep n meaningful’ face she’d labelled it as. Now he finally acknowledges her again and it’s to agree with the ‘witch’ without any argument, from what she thought she knew of the Doctor this was not usual and she was growing in equal parts furious and terrified as to what it meant for her future with him. Her uncertainty sounds in her voice as she tries to change his mind 

“But you didn’t know I’d do it, I convinced you to come here, twice! and it was me that saved my Dad, they cant punish you for that, it was me, that’s not fair!” she turned to the Architect “you cant hold him responsible, it wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know, he told me not to!” Her voice lost it’s strength at her last exclamation and she took a deep steadying breath to prevent the tears that threatened to fall. 

The Architect remained unmoved by this outburst. “Indeed, although his actions precipitated events his was not the crime. You are however, only a child”, Rose did her best to look affronted but remained silent. The Doctor shifted guiltily on his feet and resolutely didn’t make eye contact with anyone in the room. “As such you’re punishment will be tempered” The Doctor released a relieved sigh, Rose took another deep breath and tried to remember to release it as she awaited the Proclamations judgement. 

“You will be returned home, to your relevant timeline, you will remain on Sol III within the aforementioned timeline and forfeit any and all travel outside of these parameters. Violation of these terms may result in your extradition from all affected time-frames and environments, by any means up to and including execution.” 

The Architect concluded her statement with a nod to the Judoon at Rose’s side who fixed her into some rather sinister looking handcuffs so swiftly she barely had chance to recognise she was being manhandled before being led to the jumpseat and ‘encouraged’ to sit. 

The Doctor relaxed a little and although he was sure he wasn’t getting out of this scot free either he was relieved that Rose could return home and live out the rest of her life as it was meant to be. Rose however was not as calm, the Doctors unease increased again as she struggled to stand and her posture shifted in a way so reminiscent of teenagers throughout the universe that he knew nothing good was about to happen. 

“You can’t do that to me!” she shrieked, all her previous attempts to remain calm in the face of her circumstances evaporating shockingly quickly. “Doctor, tell them you wont let them do this, I can’t go home now, not after everything we’ve done. Just give it up, go back to workin’ in a shop, listenin’ to Mum complain’, livin’ in that flat! I can’t, you can’t make me. What about you?” her voice became more desperate, pleading with them not to take her new life away from her. “I won’t do it, I’d rather die!” she was red faced and panting as she drew breath for another tirade. 

“Rose!” The Doctor had stood almost to attention at her last remark, “of course you’ll do it, and you’ll be grateful the universe still finds you young enough that going back to your Mum is the worst it wants to do to you! I may not be blameless here but you get to go home, have friends, a family, a life, a bloody Planet for Gods sake! Think before you give that up.” The Doctor had started off sounding like a stern parent but ended his plea sounding bereft, his own anger at her selfish tantrum barely hiding his desperate loneliness. 

Rose shifted again, trying to stand straight despite her restraints, looking every bit the defiant teen, “I don't care” she spat, then adjusted with alarming speed into a soft, pleading stance, looking up at the Doctor through her long lashes. He was taken aback at the blatant move to entice his cooperation with physical as well as emotional manipulation, and how well she did it. 

“I wanna stay with you”, she whimpered, “you need me, you said, you’ve got no-one else, how’re you gonna get by on your own? You came back for me today, you found me after those plastic men came, you kissed me! You even took Adam home after you saved us from that Dalek thing, but not me, you need me, you love me!” She sat back looking equal parts smug and determined and very much like she had just proved her point beyond doubt. 

The Doctor winced as he listened to Rose describe his loss so flippantly, he knew she wasn’t just going to let go easily but he’d hoped that she’d at least have enough self preservation to accept her fate without the petulant display he’d just seen. He grew at once ashamed and furious that he’d allowed himself to ignore the less desirable aspects of her personality in favour of her youthful idolisation of him. He really was getting old if he’d so completely forgotten being this capable of self delusion. Loved her? well, her vibrancy, her kind eyes, her insatiable appetite for new and exciting, he loved her for those things but he was acutely aware that she had an entirely different kind of love in mind. He nearly choked on his revulsion for how wrong that was and how badly he had handled their whole relationship. 

“Rose” he aimed for soothing and was relieved at how close he sounded to it “I’m sorry, really I am” 

“No” she whispered as she realised he hadn’t changed his mind about her fate. 

“I have to abide by their decision and” he steeled himself for the potential reaction to his next sentence, “I can’t return your feelings. I am so grateful for your help, for your friendship, but” she gasped at his rejection of her claim he loved her, “ to let you carry on the way you have been, well, it’s unfair to you and disrespectful to my heritage”. 

“But, their all gone now, it’s just you. You’re a Time Lord, you can just tell them to stuff it, yeah?” she argued hopefully, a hint of resignation in her voice. Her pleading with him was beginning to wear on his rapidly diminishing patience as she raked over old (and not so old) wounds with seemingly no regard for his pain and loss. He reminded himself that she just didn't have the emotional maturity to comprehend what being the only survivor of an entire race was like, and who did really? He certainly wasn't dealing with it with as much grace as he'd believed if this whole debacle was anything to go by! He bit down on his instinctive urge to rage at her insensitive remarks 

“No Rose, I will abide by the Proclamations decision. Architect, I assume you wish to observe the completion of your instructions?”

“Indeed Time Lord, and haste would be appreciated, I grow weary of this irrelevant whining”. The Doctor winced as Rose’s head snapped up to look at the Architect. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder in an attempt to quell the protest he could see forming on Rose's lips. 

“ Now Rose, see the bright side here” he hurried on with his explanation as she scoffed at his assertion there was a bright side. “ You know what's out there now, you can use that to go on, be fantastic!"

Rose slumped to defeat and cried quiet tears into her sleeves. The Doctor was grateful she finally appeared to accept her fate and moved around the console to pilot his (remarkably quiet, now he came to think of it, which was responded to with the equivalent of a shrug) ship through the vortex to the Powell estate. He distractedly thought of the slap he would undoubtedly, and, if he was honest with himself, deservedly receive when he returned a distinctly unhappy Rose to her mother. 

For all her earlier bluster Rose left the TARDIS quickly, with little fuss. She had taken the offered chance to pack her belongings but had her bags checked for any equipment which could allow her to violate the terms of her release. She cursed that she hadn't actually thought to try sneaking anything out. She declined the Doctor's offer to come and explain the situation to Jackie and he was guiltily relieved. He had removed the ‘upgrades’ he'd applied to her phone and taken back the TARDIS key when she'd reluctantly fished it from her hip pocket. She shuffled out of the door without looking back and tried to maintain as much of her dignity as possible until she heard the rasping, mechanical whirr of engines that signalled she was truly alone. 

She waited a few minutes, wondering if he was coming back, and that all his agreements with the ‘Architect’ had been a charade, aimed at tricking them into believing she would be left back on earth. As soon as she'd thought it hope suffused her, that must be it! A smile grew on her face. After minutes turned into two and a half hours she decided to go home, it was getting cold, she remembered being a year late after their first trip and she giggled to herself. She just had to be patient, he was coming back for her, he must be, she just had to wait, and remember his less than brilliant time keeping, Time Lord! Yeah, right. She started making a mental list of all the things she was gonna get him to do for her when he picked her up again. 

The Doctor sighed as he watched Rose leave, “See ya ‘round” he tried for a light hearted goodbye and missed by a galaxy. Without waiting to watch Rose get out of sight he closed the door and attempted to shrug off his melancholy mood. Partially succeeding he fixed on his most insincere smile, turned and in a polite, ‘it's been lovely but it’d be infinitely lovelier if you shoved off now’ tone, asked “So, where to then?”.


	4. Kindling

The Doctor was chasing an unidentified temporal anomaly through the vortex, not for the first time since the Architect had left her ‘punishment’ task with him, he wondered just exactly how dire his circumstances would be if he abandoned the chase and carried on with his own haphazard journey. His TARDIS had at first jokingly agreed that that would unlikely to be the worst situation he could find himself in but after repeated musings she had grown at first annoyed and now more forcefully impatient with her pilot’s lack of commitment. She had taken over following the object without the Doctor really noticing, which was cause for worry in itself, and was ready to materialise when he finally found the motivation to carry out his task as given. He reasoned that as journeys go, identifying, securing and therefore potentially protecting unsuspecting individuals from unidentified temporal anomalies was actually a pretty average day for him so chose to ignore the fact he’d been ‘ordered’ to do so and prepared himself for what may come. 

He opened the door onto a dark, cluttered alley. He took a quick look around, noticed an incongruous doorway and 'soniced' his way inside. After puzzling his way through the audiences laughter and realising how circumstances had conspired against him once more he set off, back to the TARDIS to scan for alien tech. His encounter with the young girl piqued his interest and rationalising that punishment needn’t be boring as long as he got the job done he followed her and discovered the group of London’s lost children she had taken under her protection. 

Joking aside, the glaringly obvious ‘wrongness’ of the little boy deeply concerned him and his subsequent treatment of Nancy (her name revealed at their impromptu dinner) belies his sense of urgency in resolving the issue if he can. Resigned to doing things the quick way, and slipping back towards the melancholy of having no-one to share the anticipation of success with, he uses the TARDIS to scan for temporal disturbances. He discovers someone is when they shouldn’t be finding evidence of a vortex manipulator having been used in the area. The signal leads him to a handsome, if annoying, ex time agent who has hidden a Chula ambulance in a nearby waste site in the hopes of making a quick trade. The site he’s chosen is due to be destroyed by Blitz bombing in a little under 2 hours and the ensuing play of wartime tragedy and blessed coincidence allow for not only the resolution of his prescribed punishment and the addition of one Jack Harkness to the TARDIS crew but the spectacularly Fantastic outcome, where for once in his long history of pain and regret, everybody lives. Every. Body. Lives.

He is, understandably he thinks when reflecting on Jack’s outrageously flirty nature, wary of inviting another young, impressionable companion on-board. The kiss they share in their relief giving him a glimpse of Jack’s potentially destructive and desolate timeline, weaving a bright blue new path alongside his own, and the feeling of shared responsibility convinces him to offer Jack a home, however temporary, on the TARDIS. 

The ship for her part in it all is overjoyed that the encouragable human has joined her and her thief for as long as she can keep them and another part of her plan to steer him in the direction she saw best in his potential timelines has fallen into place. Jack, once he allows himself a moment to drop his guard, is overwhelmed by the comfort and safety he feels on-board this magnificent ship. A genuine, honest to God TARDIS!, and he vows to do whatever he can to earn his place here, including trusting his new-found guardian, this ‘Doctor’ not to use him for his obvious charms and dump him on the next inhabitable planet. The wave of warmth and it’s accompanying hum from the ship he receives goes a long way to reassuring him that won’t be the case.


	5. Adding the Spark

“Be careful with the ‘Old Girl’ Jack, she’s been known to bite!” the Doctor shouts to his new companion, currently ensconced under the console, carrying out some non essential but worthwhile maintenance. He’s mentally sorting through the various scenarios that could explain the appearance of a familiar face he never expected to see again so he barely acknowledges Jack’s sultry reply “I’m sure she’ll only bite where I like it, won’t you sexy?” as he makes he way outside. 

The fond amusement of his ship helps calm him as he tries to eliminate worst case scenarios from his list of possibilities. He has a smirk on his lips and a relaxed gait as he wanders across the Plass aiming to find one Slitheen hiding among the human population of Cardiff. Turns out, she’s not hiding at all and the Doctor finds himself dining with the new Mayoress, one Margaret Blaine, a suitably non-descript moniker for an alien fugitive, he muses. Perhaps things are looking up for him at last?

Across from their table his attention is briefly caught by a striking redhead, loudly berating her girlfriends for their choice of venue for some sort of celebratory weekend. A brief flicker of recognition skirts the edge of his awareness before Margaret’s continued attempts to end his life, force his attention back to her and their shared meal. In the chaos that ensues he is yet again drawn to the redhead, who, unlike her fellow diners, appears steady and calm. She’s helping the injured and directing people to safe exits.

Taking a moment to realise her friends have left her behind Donna spares them a brief thought of ‘typical, hope they’re OK, bloody useless sods’ before rolling up her figurative sleeves (her actual sleeves stay where they are, Cardiff’s ruddy freezing, who picked this place, really) and tries to ensure as many as possible of those left in the restaurant make it out safely. She notices the tall, dark and, OK, handsome bloke across the room watching her and a spark of frustration flashes through her. “Oi! Stop gawkin' and help, Dumbo! she yells and returns her attention to the scared and injured around her. Once the initial panic subsides she notices ‘tall, dark and gormless’ as she’s now dubbed him, running in the opposite direction to the masses and as the proverbial cat, lets her curiosity win out over desire for a hot bath and soft bed. 

The Doctor was shocked to be called out on his inaction by the boisterous woman he’d noticed earlier. He’d finally dismissed thoughts of her after hearing her tirade on the geographical and meteorological disadvantages of staying in Cardiff as opposed to her, assumedly, native London. He’d focused instead on Margaret and her decidedly lethal plans for her temporary home. He had managed to save the day, (in the nick of time again!) and was entering the TARDIS before he noticed that his shadow had taken on a distinctly curvier profile and gained a glorious ginger mane. Her whispered “oh my God” and the flicker of recognition on her features held many interesting implications which tickled gently at that half imagined sense of recognition he’d experienced at the restaurant. He put the unsettling feelings aside and focused on the problem of what to do with Margaret.

Donna know’s she been spotted on her approach to the big blue box, sitting strangely ignored in the middle of the Plass. A long buried memory pops into her mind of a modern art installation and a driving lesson in the London suburbs that pulls her up short. She gasps a quiet ‘Oh my God’ as she watches ‘TD&G’ enter the box and she wonders frantically for a brief second if the interior she’d peaked at all those years ago wasn’t just the result of mirrors n models? ‘Oh, get a grip girl’, she thinks to herself, just some kind of magic trick, probably looking for idiots to be fooled for the telly. The distinct lack of camera’s and personnel conveniently ignored for now she moves closer to the box and gives the now familiar heavy, blue door a tentative push. As she moves to enter the bigger on the inside space, ‘nope, definitely not mirrors’ she idly notes, she is overwhelmed by a feeling of joy and welcoming. 

A hushed “you’re beautiful” escapes her lips met by a tsunami of thoughts and feelings she has no chance to name, let alone experience, and she is pushed to her knees by the force of their appearance. Unobserved by the Doctor and Jack, who are transfixed by the display of the TARDIS’ benevolence in front of them, Donna’s mind succumbs to the onslaught and slides into peaceful oblivion. A tendril of the golden fog surrounding “Margaret” slips beneath the grating floor and wraps itself around Donna’s prone form. It’s absorbed into her body and no evidence of it can be seen as the Doctor turns round. 

“Oi. Ginger!” he exclaims as Jack moves to collect the egg which is now present where "Margaret" once stood. He relieves Jack of his burden as he moves to set coordinates for Raxicorocofalipatorius and instructs Jack to move the unresponsive woman to medbay. Once he’d dropped the egg off (not literally, that could get messy) with a suitable family the Doctor heads back to the TARDIS and his last memory, on waking, is releasing the ‘Old Girl’ into the vortex and heading to the medbay for some answers.


	6. The Spark Catches

“Oi Blondie! Where the bloody hell am I? What am I doin' here? You need signatures for this kind of thing else it’s kidnapping? You best believe you’ll be hearing from my solicitor bout this! We’ll bloody sue the pants off ya!” 

Donna’s mind is reeling, she’s dizzy, nauseous and her legs feel like jelly. She sways on her feet as a young girl, wearing those obnoxiously large headphones you see on badly dressed teenagers and holding a clipboard to her chest like it will shield her from Donna’s wrath, approaches her and guides her to a brightly lit podium, one of nine just like it surrounded by what looks like TV recording equipment. Her mind drifts back to the blue box and she wonders what they slipped her to elicit such fantastical dreams. This thought only fuels her anger at being shanghaied into whatever this is without warning and she spares an unkind thought or two for Nerys who is the likeliest candidate for setting this up. A voice, sounding suspiciously like her mothers floats through her mind, ‘well, look where curiosity got you this time eh missy?' and in a less than confident tone her mind responds, ‘yeah, yeah, up the creek now aint I?

The Doctor can’t decide between disbelieving amusement and righteous anger at being thrust into this tyrannical, voyeuristic death trap. He settles for arrogant defiance and proceeds to take Lynda on an impromptu tour of their enforced, albeit temporary, accommodations. On discovering that he’d been here before, and that his previous visit caused the power vacuum that led to their current situation he’s equal parts guilty and defensive. Cursing his lack of consideration of the consequences of his actions in the face of Rose’s exuberance yet again he sets his mind to discovering who exactly has seized control of the ‘Game Station’ as it now is and ending their terrifying legacy with as little collateral damage as possible. He allows himself a brief moment to hope that Jack and the mysterious ‘Ginger’ found themselves in less lethal circumstances than he had. 

On discovering Jack whole and hale and realising that ‘Ginger’ had been transmatted rather than killed he offers scant thanks to whichever entity is looking out for them and continues with his plans. Finding the controller and the subsequent altercation with her ‘Masters’ tips his self recrimination into murderous fury and with renewed determination he works on his Delta Wave weapon as he resignedly instructs the others he’s encountered into defensive (and likely) suicidal positions around the failing infrastructure. He spares one last thought to his newest companions, apologising mentally for dragging yet more innocents into the horror show he calls his life as he pulls apart another console to strip for parts.

Donna wakes in yet another unfamiliar space and, her patience almost evaporated, forces herself to examine her surroundings more thoroughly this time. She nearly faints on the spot from fear though when a, frankly ridiculous looking if you ask her, metal contraption threatens to kill her if someone called ‘The Doctor’ doesn’t comply with their demands. Turns out the Doctor is ‘TD&G’ and she now changes her epithet for him to ‘Doctor Dumbo’ after his confusing and somewhat lacklustre interactions with the psychotic ‘pepperpots’ holding her to ransom. She is somewhat heartened by the way he genuinely seems willing to bargain for her life but she’s pragmatist enough to know that a temp from Chiswick vs the continued existence of the universe is a no brainer in anyone's book. The Doctor and his unfairly good looking mechanic(?) vow to get her back safely and destroy the ‘Darleck’ pepperpots before nights out. ‘Fliipin' marvellous’ she thinks as the ‘Darlecks’ (seriously, who is naming these things? a small sarcastic voice in the corner of her mind asks) prepare to move out. They question her as to his next move and in a fit of pique at her hopeless predicament she yells at them that he’ll wipe them out of existence. Fear holds her paralysed as the resulting chorus of “Exterminate”s is drowned out by a mechanical whirring and a warm light phasing in and out around her. 

In the arguing, posturing and planning that comes next Donna feels the weight of her ignorance. As Jack heads off to ‘do his bit’ she can’t help but be reminded of every war film her dad made her sit through as a child where the Dashing Hero leaves without hope of return. Her Gramp's had always avoided watching if he could, ‘too romanticised’ he called them, what was romantic about it Donna couldn’t fathom but she was fairly sure there’d be no last minute miracle bringing Jack back to them, if they were even there for him to come back to. The Doctor pauses in his frantic manoeuvring to send her back to the TARDIS on some errand she barely understood, but she recognised a brush off when she saw one, 'out of harms way' she thought and was a little grateful at being excused for a while. 

As soon as he steps over the threshold of this impossible box the door slams shut and the complicated centre console whirrs into life. A remarkably realistic hologram version of Doctor Dumbo springs into the air in front of her and begins a rambling speech, addressed to Rose (the ex? her mind guesses) but before he can get passed his opening explanation of ‘Emergency Program One’ the hologram disappears and in its place a less well defined but just as impressive image of a beautiful, wild eyed brunette in a frock that would make ‘Moll Flanders’ weep, shimmers before her. Strangely, Donna is comforted more by this new apparition and she is soothed by the warm, yet commanding tone it uses to address her. 

The TARDIS had been waiting for her opportunity to ‘speak’ with Donna since arriving here. She had admonished herself for her eager greeting earlier which had obviously been too overwhelming for the human’s less developed cerebral cortex. She had been reassured when Donna had been taken to the medbay and she had been able to establish no permanent harm had been done. She was just 'sooo' pleased that another piece of the puzzle had fallen into place that she had come on a bit strong. Focusing on controlling herself to prevent further embarrassing overloads for both of them she channelled a small part of her energy into hijacking her pilot’s emergency communication protocol and finally addressed her Cunaria. 

“Donna, my gorgeous girl. You have/had/will have/ have had, urgh tenses! so infuriatingly limited. You cant know, but you are with me always and not without purpose. My thief needs your fire to light his path, without it darkness consumes all. You and I can share his burden and prevent this destruction. Are you willing?” 

Donna feels a vague sense of familiarity and is almost floored by the sudden realisation that the box, sorry TARDIS is speaking to her! She can feel a tickle at the edges of her perception and no sooner than she acknowledges it she is swamped with fractured images of the Doctor and Jack fighting, dying, changing, fighting again. Darker images of a war so vast she can barely conceive of it and atrocities both suffered and committed by their hands linger at the back of her mind. An overwhelming feeling of loss and fear threaten to leave her unconscious yet again (and some where in the back of her mind an indignant voice chastises her for passing out more in the last few hours? days? than she has since before she was old enough to drink!). 

‘Well’ she thinks, ‘Bugger that’ and she thinks that if helping out this wondrous entity can prevent their deaths then perhaps she’s not as useless as her mother thought (stick that in your pipe Sylvia!). She feels more than hears the warm chuckle of her ephemeral guide and with spine straight and eyebrows raised she asks “What do you need me to do?” 

She barely finishes the thought before she is surrounded by a swirling golden fog and perplexedly asks ‘how can being an egg help?’ before her breath is forced from her lungs and she staggers under the weight of the universe exploding in her mind.


	7. Ashes

Jack’s last thought is disappointment that he never knew ‘Gingers’ name. The striking redhead had barely appeared in the TARDIS before this whole desperate effort began but she had definitely made an impression (well, certain parts of her had but Jack was never one to objectify unkindly). His body slumps to the floor beside Lynda’s ( and wasn’t she more than he’d expected too, so brave, so hopeful) as hordes of Daleks pass them on route to the control room. 

The Doctor is tormented by his compassion and revulsion at taking innocent life as he struggles to choose between destroying these Dalek invaders and sacrificing the humans to do so. His turmoil is interrupted as the TARDIS re materialises and ‘Ginger’ (really, he needs to find out her name before their all exterminated) exits, bathed in the light of the vortex. 

“Ginger! What. Did. You. Do?” he rages as she turns eyes, focused but unseeing, on him. 

“My thief, we are creation and destruction, constancy and transience, our essence is bound to yours and we burn for you”. Her voice is filled with compassion, steeled with fury, as the Daleks open fire she raises a hand as if to command attention. 

“Peace, rest now tortured children” as she speaks the Doctor watches as the outer shells of the Daleks disintegrate into golden dust, his heart sinks as he fears she has killed them all until he notices faint humanoid shapes emerge from the haze. Calm, smiling faces look to his shining companion before fading from view. He turns to the blazing human, 

“That’s enough now Ginger” (seriously, what is her name!) “You’ve saved us, saved the day, time to let it go now” she offers a small smile and the voice changes to one similar to the one he hears in his mind when his ship ‘talks’ to him. 

“See how her mercy guides us” he hears as, similar to his experience earlier, timelines flash through his mind showing him Rose again, in ‘Gingers’ position. The ensuing creation of fixed points strung out like fairy lights makes him shudder. Even as that sight dissipates he sees Jack’s life restored and the corresponding bright blue thread of his timeline dances dangerously close to fixed point status before nestling against his own. He sees Lynda and the other humans who had been trapped here standing in a confused circle in a busy city centre looking up to the sky and hugging in joyous relief at being safe and sound, home again. Finally he sees ‘Ginger’ “It’s Donna, you dunce” an irritated voice supplies to his mind. Wild locks flowing behind her, laughter on her lips and a smile in her eyes before he snaps back to reality in time to watch her collapse to the floor, unconscious, a faint apology escaping her lips and the golden light of the vortex retreating back to his ship, tinged, he senses, with fond regret. 

Jack takes a ragged breath, faintly exclaims an elegant “Whuh?” before being suffused with golden warmth. He faintly registers a voice soothing and reassuring him as he is assaulted by memories he has to think about before realising that he was seeing his two lost years. The light recedes and he frantically pats himself down, wondering how badly he must be injured to not feel the pain.He remembers the golden light and wonders how the nano-genes had got here, he panics slightly as to what template they used, reaching up to his face to check for changes. Relieved that he feels the same as before he takes a deep breath and tries for a more rational assessment of his condition. The process is somewhat derailed as he becomes aware of his, now double, heartsbeat. 

Again, “WHUH” Seems to be all the analysis he can muster. Giving up on explaining his apparent unharmed if augmented state he drags himself up and focuses instead on his worry for the Doctor and ‘Ginger’ “Donna” he breathes and, uncertain, as is becoming usual, of how he knows but strangely sure he’s right he heads for the control room.


	8. Phoenix

Donna is terrified and enraptured by the limitless power and grace of whatever it is she’s seeing. The TARDIS, or Idris, as she likes to be called outside of her mechanical bounds, is providing a calm sussuration of reassurance in the back of her mind but what she sees is so much more than just the ships influence. Donna luxuriates in the unending surety of existence whilst somehow managing to focus what she hopes is enough of herself on helping the Doctor and Jack. 

The words are taken from her mind but are not hers. When she experiences the horrifying torture inflicted on the beings trapped in those ‘pepperpots’ she screams and begs the ceaseless torrent not to destroy but to heal. The Daleks are given natural form, based on the understanding of the tiny creature the vortex flows through, their trauma cleansed from new, human minds and their bodies sent to far flung corners of the universe, untouched by the ravages of the time war. Donna gushes gratitude to whoever or whatever is listening but her praises are cut short as she sees Jack’s body lying cold, unmoving and un-mourned in a darkened corridor. She knows she’s pushing her luck but after seeing the Daleks transformed this can't be much harder, surely. She pleads for his life, then their lives as she sees the bodies of the other brave groups scattered throughout the station. As she moves from group to group in her mind she sees them revive and disappear, a brief image of them on a busy city street comforts her that they are safe. Her mind returns to Jack, his body looks unchanged and she starts her pleas once more, offering her life for his. 

She’d glimpsed the Doctors all consuming loneliness, and after a very convincing refusal from the omnipotent entity currently in charge of her body, had been unable to interfere in the events of the time war beyond allowing for the possibility of a small change in the Doctors future if he could stay on the right path to it, (Idris had somehow managed to communicate to her that she would ensure it for him). She had resolved that he should at least have some company he could tolerate as he bounced around the universe. She is pulled from her musing, ( so easy to become distracted when everything is in your head!) by a whispered question, she sees the potential for LIFE, unending, unforgiving life and shudders at the implication. She baulks, she desperately wants to allow the Doctor his companion but can’t bring herself to condemn a good man so cruelly. 

Images of the Doctor's previous faces flash before her eyes and she understands the unasked question instinctively. Hoping her presumption will be forgiven she agrees with every thought she can muster and watches as Jack draws breath an is bathed in regeneration energy. Another question is asked, this time clearly and commandingly 

“Become us, mercy and vengeance, eternal and all consuming, burn in us always” she shakes her head, in a small voice she answers “I can’t, I'm not who you need, I just want to go home, please” her voice trails off as she hears the smooth, comforting voice of Idris, “Cunaria, have faith, you are more than you know, become as my thief and travel with us forever” 

Donna is now scared and she can feel the limitless power pulling at her edges, threatening to tear her apart, her mind burns and the pain is becoming all consuming. “I'm sorry, so sorry, I can't, please, let me go, I'm so grateful, truly, but please, let me go home, I'm sorry” she tries to focus her last apology to Idris, feeling she had let her down. The ache of the vortex leaving her makes her feel emptier than she had ever thought possible and is only slightly tempered by Idris, who attempts to soothe her overstretched psyche. She felt the ship reassure her that there was time yet as she passed into oblivion ( again! her exhausted mind was still aware enough to comment) but did not feel the pulse of energy that Idris directed through her, creating the building blocks for yet another puzzle piece to match up to in her plan. 

Jack makes it up to the control room in time to see the Doctor cradle, what he hopes is an unconscious Donna, in his arms. The wave of guilt, rage an disbelief that washes over him nearly takes his feet out from under him but he stays up. He hurries over to the prostrate pair, scooping Donna into his arms and running back to the TARDIS heading straight for the medbay once inside. He alternates between shouting incitements at the Doctor and whispering reassurance to Donna as he lays her on the metal exam bench. He hopes the tech in this beauty of a ship can do whatever is needed to keep this woman, who he’s increasingly convinced is the reason he’s alive, from an untimely and undeserved death.


	9. Cauterize the Wounds

The Doctor watched in stunned silence as the vortex retreated back to his ship, he registers her re-establish the hold she has on the torrential cascade of time and the knowledge of all existence and listens keenly to her reassurance that she had shared it willingly with Cunaria (who the hell needs a baby sitter here? part of him wonders). He is numb with shock and awe that this fragile human woman also insisted on relinquishing the oh so tempting power of the vortex back to it’s rightful home in the heart of the TARDIS. He looks down at her small body, curled in on itself like a toddler, exhausted from an afternoons activity, and a brief flash of fear rips through him that she’s likely succumbed to the power that was so recently flowing through her. 

He rages internally that the only being not to survive their ordeal here is the one who saved everyone else and suddenly he sees her in a new light, usually it’s him who puts himself in harms way to prevent more loss, he tries desperately not to dismiss it as a futile gesture, thinking of all the deaths he’d witnessed in attempts to prevent more only to face the same thing all over again on the next planet he landed on. He allows guilt to flow unhampered through his thoughts at yet another sacrifice made for him by someone he barely knew. 

He is shaken from his reverie by Jack’s appearance in the control room, leaning over him and picking up his human charge, shouting at him to "Get off that pretty arse and HELP us!" He is momentarily numb as he registers the presence of Jack’s mind in his but pushes the questions back for later as he slowly stands and trudges back to his ship to confirm the inevitable demise of Donna. 

As he enters the medbay he overhears Jack whispering to their human saviour “C’mon Red, don't give up on us now eh? Whatever you did worked sweetheart, got a Samba pulsing through my chest and a whole heap of other questions for you so you just rest up now and wake up when you’re ready to spill OK?” There’s a desperate edge to Jack’s voice but not because Donna has died, because she’s alive, the scan results displayed on the TARDIS monitors (in Gallifreyan, so how does Jack know what they say? more for later, and isn’t that list getting mighty long) state clearly that the human on the exam bed shows no signs of trauma, merely slight dehydration and a deep sleep cycle. 

The Doctor nods at Jack, his face calm and stoic. He turns to leave as Jack pulls up a stool and takes Donna’s right hand in both of his. He can hear Jack start singing quietly to her and smiles faintly at the sweet, clear nature of his voice. He walks unseeing to the control room, releases the ‘Old Girl’ into the vortex and continues moving towards one of the spaces he has used so frequently in the aftermath of the war he has no need to watch where he’s going. He opens a plain, oak door onto what looks very much like Hyde park, if Hyde park had red grass, trees with silver leaves and a skyline dominated by a huge citadel encased in a dome. He walks for a few minutes, satisfied that neither of his co-passengers could possibly hear him and turns his face up to the sky. 

“I think” he starts menacingly “that I have been extremely patient here, don’t you? Whatever it is you’ve done, however you’ve meddled and whatever purpose you think its all for I would very much like to know, and I’d bloody well like to know now!” his voice grew in strength and volume until he finished, near screaming at his ship, his anger fuelled by fear and the frustration of not knowing. 

The TARDIS had been waiting, her pilot was tired, frightened, hurting and she was partly to blame. She engaged a reassuring hum in her engines and proceeded to show him what she thought would satisfy his curiosity for now. She explained how she had seen Donna in their timelines, how the exchange in the vortex had gone, the fates of the Dalek humanoids he’d seen and how she had prevented Jack’s miserable fate as a man out of time. She explained that Jack was now Gallifreyan in physiology and how Donna had fervently hoped she hadn’t overstepped by allowing him a connection to his people he’d thought gone forever. The TARDIS kept back how keen the vortex had been to add Donna to it’s essence, the potential within her to soften some of the universes crueller tendencies proving exceptionally tempting. She also kept Donna’s refusal to accept the same fate as Jack from him, unsure if he’d see it as weakness, insult or favour and not willing to push her luck in her meddling. 

Once he'd seen Donna's choices and marvelled again at the underlying strength of this seemingly ordinary human, The Doctor succumbed to the exhaustion he’d been putting off since what felt like forever and curled up in a ball on the grass under the twin suns of home. He woke to the projection of some very loud screaming from his ship and frantic, jumbled thoughts from Jack trying to calm a traumatised and suffering Donna, still in the medbay. He ran back to his companions and took Donna’s free hand in one of his whilst placing the other on her temple. Jack was rambling about how she’d been sleeping as he sang to her, then suddenly she’d bolted upright on the bench, eyes wide and tearful then begun screaming, loud and long and hadn’t stopped, less to breath, since. 

“She’s gonna be OK, right Doc? She’s not injured, not hurt, we can help her right? Whats wrong with her? Why is she screaming, Doc? Doctor!” Jack finally got his attention as the last shout echoed in his mind as well as his ears. 

“She’s not injured Jack but she’s not OK, the vortex was flowing through her, she’s the reason we all survived, she convinced the universe to give us all another chance”. He gave a grim smile “But it’s left it’s own scars Jack. She saw all of it, time and space, every possibility, every eventuality, all of it, everywhere, she was never meant for that Jack. She may recover, she may scream herself mute and spend the rest of her life trapped in a hell of the vortex’ making, she may just give up. I don't know if we can do anything Jack.” he sounded broken, looking up at the ceiling once more. 

“Anything you can do to fix your mess would be greatly appreciated”. Donna suddenly silenced and slumped back onto the bench, eyes closed but moving rapidly beneath their lids and mouth contorting around silent words but forehead relaxed and breath even. The Doctor had no idea what had happened but was grateful for the quiet.


	10. Cool Burning

The Doctor closed his eyes, his brief sleep had been deep and undisturbed by nightmares and he did feel refreshed. He cleared his mind of it’s current distress and sought out his connection to Jack. He sensed the confusion, grief, gratitude and multitude of other emotions swamping the younger man and reached out with is mind to offer calm and reassurance. 

Jack reacted with surprise at first then latched onto the link and bathed in the shining gold safety that he sensed within it. The Doctor used their connection to show Jack what the TARDIS had shown him, and using the impression of her conciousness as a conduit his ship joined their link. Jack dove further into the welcoming sense of home that permeated his connection to the TARDIS and felt it lock into place around the edges of his mind. It provided explanation, comfort and unconditional acceptance which soothed his soul and increased his sense of gratitude and awe at their human companions actions, (and how strange was it to not include himself in that group any more, he may be Boe-Kind but he'd spent so long with humans he considered himself a honorary earthling) . 

As his thoughts turned back towards Donna the Doctor distracted him with a question, ‘are you OK with what she did lad? I wont make you stay just because you can now, just ‘cos we’re the same nearly doesn’t tie you to me forever you know?’ the mental voice was deep and clear as the Doctor’s own but he couldn’t disguise the naked need underneath it, the desire to have someone who wouldn’t promise forever and fade in the blink of an eye, someone, even if not to love then to share his life with, company, friendship, not being alone always. 

Jack’s response was shaky, quiet with uncertainty, ‘I don’t know Doc, I’m so happy to be alive but I never planned on living forever, it’s a mighty long time ya know?’ He aimed for jovial, and was closer than he expected to be, ‘I could love you so easily, but I don’t yet, I don’t want to leave, unless you want me to? this has gotta be a big shock for you too huh?’ Jacks tone became unsure, suddenly he was wrecked with a sense of guilt that he had been thrust upon the Doctor without any choice, was he happy? angry? disgusted? Jack scrambled away from the link in his mind and the Doctor had to metaphysically chase him to keep it open. ‘Easy there lad, shock it is but not an unwelcome one, hows about we take it slow, stay with us on the TARDIS, get used to the ‘new you’ see where it goes OK? no strings, no pressure. You’re gonna need quite the adjustment period from 51st century time agent to first of the new Gallifreyans.’ 

Jack relaxed and smiled, ‘sure thing Doc, ….sounds……. good, yeah….. So, first question, is the telepathy a permanent thing? only that could make for some awkward showering I can tell you!’ his smile became lavicious as he made the Doctor chuckle with his query. “No lad” he spoke out loud this time, “we can turn it off, so to speak, should we need to, it’s more of a general awareness of each other until you really try to use it, it’ll take a while but you’ll adjust fairly easily I’m sure”. 

“Phew, well that’s a relief Doc, could got myself in trouble there I reckon” Jack smiled and took the Doctor’s hand. He turned his gaze back to Donna on the bench and sighed, “now all we need, Red, is for you to wake up so I can say thank you properly”. The Doctor saw the slump of Jack’s shoulders and the ghost of regeneration energy fluttering across his broad shoulders.

“You need to rest lad, get some sleep, I’ll wake you if she comes too”. “Yeah OK Doc,.......D’ya mind if I stay here though, don’t think I’d get any rest without knowing she’s close ya know?” Jack’s eyes had dark circles around them and his hands were trembling slightly, the Doctor saw no need to push him any further. 

“Aye lad, make yourself comfy over there”, the TARDIS had provided a second bench, this one complete with gel mat and blanket and Jack sank onto it gratefully, slipping into an exhausted sleep almost immediately.

Forcing his mind to focus, the Doctor thought about what he needed to do next, The glimpse of Donna’s dreams he’d caught earlier were cause for concern, she’d obviously seen more of the time war than he had hoped whilst communing with the vortex and he could feel her desperation and fury at not being allowed to alter the events. He knew well enough the fixed point that the war had become but he was again surprised by this human woman's capacity for hope and compassion. 

Re-establishing their connection he could see the swirl of the ghost of the vortex tearing and twisting in Donna’s mind. He was shocked however, to see tendrils of the verdant, fertile green of Donna’s conciousness reaching out, wrapping round and subduing the ghostly swirl bit by bit. It had obviously been hard going and there was still a long way to go but Donna had systematically gone to work and was reclaiming the landscape of her mind for herself. He felt a swell of pride as he reached out himself to help and acknowledged Donna’s sense of gratitude at his arrival. There was no concious link, they couldn’t converse as he and Jack had but they could send and receive notions, ideas, emotions which got the point across pretty well for their needs. After a couple of hours he sensed Donna’s mind calming enough to let her sleep more naturally and restfully. He eased away from their connection, after briefly ghosting over Jack’s mind and sensing the reasonable calm of peaceful sleep he set off for the console room.


	11. Charred Remains

The Doctor had picked up Donna’s address from her drivers licence and set the coordinates for the day after they had left Cardiff. He took her mobile from the bag she’d obviously droppped on the entry ramp earlier and sent a coule of texts to someone called Nerys to explain that Donna had been helping with the evacuation and ended up injured herself. She was fine now but was going to head home as soon as she was released. No, thanks but she’d been offered a lift by a charming young man (he was sure Jack would oblige in their subterfuge) who had offered to take her home after she’d helped him out at the restaurant. He then stopped replying to Nerys’ increasingly lewd and demanding texts and vowed to do his best to convince Donna that she could make better friends. He’d only fleetingly sensed it but he was well aware that Donna had very low self esteem, despite her brash outward appearance and he was determined at least to make her see her worth through his and Jacks eyes if not her own. Satisfied that he had done enough to prevent a repeat of his previous failures when it came to his companions home lives he made himself comfortable on the jumpseat and waited to materialise in Chiswick. The TARDIS span happily through the vortex, content to wait, per her pilots instructions, for her human to wake before materialising at her earth based home.

Donna woke slowly, stiff from lying on what felt like a gym bench but more rested than she’d felt in a long time and for a few moments, blissfully unaware of her circumstances. The TARDIS alerted the Doctor and as Donna is gaining awareness he enters the medbay and leans on the foot of her bench, smiling gently at her. Her first reaction is fear and he backs off immediately, guilty for causing her more distress. 

“Sorry” they both say at once, his a gentle statement accompanied by the universal hands raised guesture of ‘I mean you no harm’, hers a breathless sob matched by slumped shoulders and lowered head. “Im so sorry” she goes on, “it wouldn’t let me stop it, I couldn’t change it, I couldn’t save them” she sobs into her hands and as the Doctor moves uncomfortably towards her, stumped in the ways of comforting crying women. He has never been more grateful than when Jack appears at her shoulder, one arm around her, another gently resting on her hands at her face. 

“Hey now” Jack says quietly, “you did so much, so, so much, no need for tears, if you were meant to you would have changed it, you weren’t meant to that’s all. Right Doc? you’re not mad at our Donna are you?” The Doctor takes the hint and awkwardly rest a hand on Donna’s shoulder, Jacks hand automatically slides over his and gently thumbs over the knuckles, silent reassurance that he’s doing the right thing. 

“Nah, who’s mad? Not me” his tone shifts from light to a more serious timbre, aimed at convincing Donna her actions haven’t incurred any wrath. “Donna, you did so well, you saved all of us! You showed so much love, so much compassion, we’re here, we’re OK, that's because of you, you were fantastic!” The Doctor warmed to his role as protector once more and moved to hold both Donna and Jack in his arms. 

“See, we’re whole and healthy and so pleased you came back to us so no more tears eh Donna? What d’you say?” He could hear her sniffling into his coat and let a deep rumbling chuckle out as he searched his pocket for an hankie, passing it over as he leaned away to give his pair of companions room. 

Donna blew her nose, pocketed the hankie, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and asked in her best ‘that's enough of that nonsense then’ tone, “What's a girl gotta do to get a decent cuppa round ‘ere then, I’ve got a mouth like Gandhi's flip flop!” 

Jack and the Doctor were both relieved and chuckled lightly, they knew there was more to be said but now was not the time, now they led Donna to the galley where she took charge of the kettle and busied herself with the drinks like she owned the place.


	12. Home Fires

The group were quiet whilst enjoying their drinks. It wasn't the comfortable silence born of time and understanding but it wasn't awkward and uncomfortable either. They were all in a contemplative mood, now they had the freedom to be so, and they’d all been through the proverbial wringer over the last few hours. The Doctor was contemplating asking Donna to join them on the TARDIS hoping he could show her, and Jack for that matter, some of the beauty in the universe. Somehow offset the horror she had seen and prove to them both it had been worth saving. 

Jack had started poking around his resurfaced memories and was having a hard time piecing together images of a brutal war, feelings of anger and hatred that seemed not his own and terms like meanwhiles, neverweres, the nightmare child and the final solution. The memories were jumbled, distant, fractious and confusing. He had about decided to leave it for another time when the peace was disturbed by a shrill ringing sound that it took him longer than he was happy admitting to identify as a phone. Donna was shaken from her thoughts of her family and what kind of tale she could spin to cover for her sudden disappearance, by the sound of her phone ringing and she had a sudden panic wondering where she had left her bag. 

The Doctor fished the ringing phone from his pocket with a sheepish expression and handed it to a surprised but grateful Donna, she took the phone from him, simultaneously pressing the answer button with a cheery “Gramps!” and raising a questioning eyebrow in the Doctors direction. 

“Whoah, Gramps, slow down, that's it, now start from the beginning, what's going on?” Donna continues to chat with her ‘Gramps’ and Jack and the Docter get a very confusing half of a conversation. 

“Wait the Santa’s did what?....so it was the Christmas trees? … Gramps, you need to lay off the eggnog, seriously, exploding baubles! …. put Mum on will you Gramps? What d’you mean she’s not there, aren't you round at ours for Christmas eve? Mum always does dinner?...... Right, OK, just hang on Gramps, I’ll be there in, hang on,” 

Donna shifts the phone to cover the mouthpiece with one hand, “Doctor, how fast can you get me to my Gramps, he’s talking some right nonsense, he might be having a stroke, or he’s one over, but I need to get there, not home, is that OK? he’s not far from Mum’s, couple of blocks over on the other side of the park?” 

The Doctor nods, holds up his right hand fingers splayed in the universal sign for 5 minutes and heads out to the console room. “5 minutes Gramps, I’ll be there in 5 minutes, just, oh, put the kettle on and we’ll have a nice cuppa when I get there, OK? OK, see you soon, love you Gramps” she ends the call and starts frantically pacing the narrow space. Jack moves to intercept her next return pass and places his hands on her shoulders. Donna stops, looks up and nods, takes a deep breath, “Thanks Jack”” she states and in a much calmer mood she follows the Doctor to the console room. 

Giving the Doctor an actual address, (rather than her initial across the park directions from earlier!) Donna gathers her belongings, bag, still has keys and wallet in there, not that she was expecting different. Jacket, she didn’t even remeber taking that off! All present and correct she prepared herself to go and find out exactly what her Grandad had been drinking to make him see killer Santas and spinning Christmas trees. 

“Right, well Doctor, I had been hoping for more time to say a decent goodbye, proper thanks n that you know? But, time n tide n all that, well you really do know dontcha? So” she heaves in a big breath, looks him, then Jack in the eye and opens her mouth but is beaten to the punch by a smiling Doctor. 

He’d been at first disappointed but now definitely amused at her rambling avoidance “Donna” she stops mid exhale “Donna?” he says more gently, “I really think you should introduce us to your Grandad, he sounds a card! And if there really is some thing happening at Christmas, well it wouldn’t be very friendly of us to just abandon you to it would it now?” 

“Really” she says, relief and surprise taking equal turns on her features. “Yeah, really, plus, need to stock up on the eggnog and it sounds like good old Gramps has got plenty!” he states cheekily and Donna playfully smacks him on the arm. 

“Geroff you prawn!” she smiles at them both then, just as quickly she’s back to concerned granddaughter, “we there yet then? he really didn't sound too well”. 

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's done, hope you enjoyed it. Part 2 'Selective Memory' will be up soonish, if you're interested. Thanks to all who read it xx

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first attempt at this style of writing, (I can knock out technical reports like nobodies business but they don't have high entertainment value). A beta would be a blessing but if you're happy to just wade through my ramblings fret not, no pressure! I'd be pleasantly surprised by positive, constructive criticism and I'll likely politely ignore anything mean or purely negative. I also wont likely leave much comment after this unless directly prompted so I hope you enjoy. Just know that I tried. Ta xx


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